Forbidden in Regency Society: The Governess and the Sheikh. Marguerite Kaye. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Marguerite Kaye
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
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isbn: 9781474006507
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face, and something darker in his eyes, which gave her pause. He had not been a happy child, that much was obvious. She decided, wisely for once, to change the subject. ‘I’ve been thinking, it would be a good thing for Linah to have more company her own age. She’s lonely, she doesn’t seem to have any friends. Children need the stimulation of others.’

      ‘That is why she has you.’

      ‘It’s not the same. Surely you are not so old that you cannot remember what it was like to play with your friends?’

      ‘I did not have any friends,’ Jamil said starkly.

      Cassie’s mouth dropped open. ‘What? Don’t be silly, you must have. At school, and—’

      ‘I did not go to school. It is the tradition with princes of the royal blood in Daar-el-Abbah to be kept in isolation so that others may not witness their early mistakes, their growing pains. That is why our motto is Invincible.’

      ‘That must be hard to live up to.’

      ‘A prince is the ultimate role model for his people; his behaviour must be beyond reproach.’

      ‘But you are human, for goodness’ sake, you’re not flawless. No one is. I would have thought your people would see a few signs of mortality as a good thing.’

      ‘You know nothing of the matter. That is not our way.’

      Cassie stared at his bleak profile in astonishment. He had not be exaggerating, then, when he said he had no friends as a child. The isolation he mentioned, it was the literal truth. Aghast at the very idea of such an upbringing, she also felt an immense pity for the lonely little boy Jamil must have been. No wonder he had no idea about how to treat his own daughter. ‘Is that what you wish for Linah,’ she asked, trying desperately to keep the emotion she felt from welling up into her voice, ‘to be raised in isolation, to be chastised when she shows any signs of normal, everyday emotion—what you call weakness?’

      Jamil stared off into the distance, giving no sign that he had heard her. ‘Jamil? Is that what you want?’ Cassie demanded, in her anxiety to get through to him, once again forgetting all about restraint. ‘Do you want your daughter to become just like you—cold-hearted and apparently incapable of showing affection even for her own children? Well? It’s not right and it’s not fair, Jamil. She may be a princess, but she’s also a little girl.’

      At some point in her last speech, Cassie had grabbed Jamil’s sleeve in an effort to make him listen. At some point in her speech, it had worked. He was no longer staring off into the distance, but right at her, and he did not look happy. She tilted her chin defiantly.

      Jamil carefully detached her hand from his arm. ‘Once again,’ he said stiffly, ‘you overstep the mark. You talk about things which you have no understanding of. None!

      She flinched at the vicious tone in his voice, but refused to give ground. ‘Linah—’

      ‘Linah will not endure what I did. I will not inflict such a regime on her, but—and you will listen most carefully here, Lady Cassandra, for I do not wish to have to repeat myself again—she is of the royal blood, and though as a woman she is not required to be seen as invincible, her behaviour must be superior to all others. She must learn to take control of her emotions. Do you understand me?’

      ‘Yes, but she will learn how to do so much more easily if the discipline is inflicted by her peers. Little girls can be quite ruthless, you know, far more so than boys. If Linah misbehaves among her friends, she will be ostracised. She will learn quickly enough that she cannot do as she pleases.’ Seeing that Jamil was struck by this, Cassie pushed home her advantage. ‘As a princess, she must learn not just discipline, but kindness. Surely you agree she will be a better princess for having some understanding of her subjects?’

      ‘I don’t know. It is not the custom.’

      ‘You keep saying that, but traditions are only traditions for as long as they are maintained. You are the prince; if you wish to change something, you can do so. Set your own traditions.’

      Jamil’s expressions softened into one of his near smiles. ‘My Council—’

      ‘You said yourself, your Council need to be brought into the nineteenth century,’ Cassie pointed out quickly. ‘Or at least,’ she amended conscientiously, ‘I think that is what you meant.’

      Jamil’s smile widened. ‘I see now that you are indeed Lord Henry Armstrong’s daughter.’

      ‘I will take that as a compliment,’ Cassie replied with one of her irrepressible smiles. ‘A compliment from you is as rare an event as a rainy day in the desert. I shall cherish it. But seriously, will you think about it, Jamil. Please? For Linah’s sake? You know it—’

      ‘What I know, Cassie, is that a wise strategist knows when to retreat as well as when to advance,’ Jamil interrupted. ‘Your point is well made and I will reflect on it, but you should stop now, before you lose the advantage you have gained.’

      She did so most reluctantly as she had still not broached the subject of Jamil’s contact with his daughter. Proud of her restraint, for it did not come at all naturally to her, Cassie nodded, fastening her lips together primly.

      ‘I can see that you are making a significant effort on my behalf,’ Jamil said, trying very hard not to laugh. Another thing he had forgotten about this beguiling creature was her more endearing qualities. She had the ability to throw him from one extreme to the other, in a way no one else could. Not that he was endeared. Just tired.

      He had been away too long. The increasing demands of his kingdom were a sign of successful expansion, yet he did not feel rewarded. Halim had been appalled by the brigand attack just as much as Cassie, but for quite different reasons. Infallibility again. The shedding of blood was evidence of mortality. Halim feared for the prince, but Cassie feared for the man. No one else, it seemed to him, saw him in that way. Cared for him in that way.

      ‘You have everything you need here?’ he asked brusquely, getting to his feet.

      ‘Yes, thank you. Linah’s schoolroom is exceedingly well equipped.’

      ‘I did not ask about Linah, I asked about you.’ Jamil reached out his hand to pull Cassie up beside him. Instead of letting her go, he pulled her to him, the better to scrutinise her face. ‘You look tired.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Have you been crying?’ ‘No, I—it was nothing.’

      ‘What have you not told me? If you are trying to protect Linah, let me tell you that—’

      ‘No, Linah is not the cause, not really. I’m just feeling a bit sorry for myself, that’s all.’

      ‘You are unhappy here?’

      ‘No, not unhappy but—well, being cooped up here all day, it can be a bit stifling,’ Cassie replied with an apologetic look.

      Jamil frowned. ‘I should have thought about it before. Of course you are used to having a little more freedom. Would you like to ride?’

      ‘Camels?’

      Cassie’s expression of dismay was so comical, Jamil could not restrain a bark of laughter. ‘No, horses.’

      He had a nice laugh, deep and infectious, extremely masculine. Cassie smiled back. Exercise, she realised, was what she needed to blow away the blue megrims, and maybe it would do Linah good, too. ‘That would be wonderful. Does Linah ride?’

      ‘It is considered improper for women here, unless they are led.’

      ‘You are a prince—are not traditions yours to make or break as you wish?’

      ‘Or as you wish? You tread a fine line, Lady Cassandra.’

      The tone in his voice pulled her up sharply. Cassie’s face fell. She dropped her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon, Highness. I would not wish to place you in a difficult position. If it would cause too much offence …’

      ‘As you